


Flesh

by rotg5311



Category: Milo Murphy's Law
Genre: Blizzards & Snowstorms, Blood, Blood and Gore, Blood and Injury, Cannibalism, Cannibalism to Survive, Cannibalistic Thoughts, Caves, Character Death, Dark, Daydreaming, Descent into Madness, Lost Love, Love, Love Confessions, M/M, Madness, Major Character Injury, Survival, Survival Horror, Survivor Guilt, Temporary Character Death, Time Travel, Trapped, Wilderness Survival, cannibal vinnie dakota - Freeform, hunger, mutual love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-07
Updated: 2020-08-07
Packaged: 2021-03-06 05:35:22
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,749
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25758199
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rotg5311/pseuds/rotg5311
Summary: The origin of Cannibal Dakota.
Relationships: Balthazar Cavendish/Vinnie Dakota
Comments: 11
Kudos: 42





	Flesh

“Uhh, I dunno Cav.” Dakota said hesitantly. Unease washed over him at the suggestion. Normally he would’ve said yes in heartbeat to keep his friend happy. However now he was unsure, even though he had little reason to be. For some reason it didn’t sit right with Dakota. “It’s five o’clock, I think we should head back before it gets dark.”

“Good heavens man, I’m not asking to spend the night up here, I’m just asking for another hour.” Cavendish scoffed at him. This whole trip had been his idea, which Dakota only agreed to in order to keep the man happy. “What’s the worst that could happen?”

“Ha, yeah, you’re right.” Dakota’s voice fell flat. There was a lot that could happen to the average person, but even more so when you threw Cavendish into the mix. The man was bad luck. He was the personification of whatever the opposite of a rabbits foot was. A few of Cavendish’s previous deaths flitted through his mind. “Twenty minutes and then we head back.”

That would give Cavendish plenty of time to do whatever he needed to do while up here. It wasn’t the full hour he was asking for, but he figured twenty minutes would turn into thirty, and that was enough of a compromise. Thankfully Cavendish didn’t object, Dakota didn’t really feel like arguing for the next few days over something so small.

The pair continued their journey, stopping every so often for Cavendish to take in their surroundings. They were close to the top of the mountain and had Dakota not put a time limit on their journey, maybe they would have made it. But if Cavendish wanted to see the top of Mt. whatever-it-was then they would need to make it here earlier on another day. This had been sort of a last minute thing that Cavendish sprung on him. How could Dakota say no? It didn’t matter that it was the middle of winter. It didn’t matter that he hadn’t eaten since breakfast. All that mattered today was making Cavendish happy. So if that meant freezing his nads off for the afternoon, then Dakota would dutifully follow suit.

“Hey, Cav, next time we do this you need to pack better snacks.” He said through a mouthful of trail mix. It’s not that he didn’t like trail mix, it was alright and it would keep the hunger pains away for the time being. But he needed an actual meal. He was long past due for lunch and dinner time was rapidly approaching. Maybe they would order Chinese food. It was Cavendish’s favorite. Hopefully that would make up for having them leave early.

“Dakota, I can’t-” Cavendish’s voice cut off with a loud yelp as he disappeared from sight.

“Cavendish?” Dakota yelled, panic rising in his voice. He sprinted toward the spot where Cavendish stood moments before, peering into the hole that had formed in the ground. “Cavendish are you ok?”

A long pause had Dakota near panic attack as he gazed into the hole looking for the best way down. “No.”

“No? What happened. I’m coming down.”

“No don’t do that.” Cavendish protested weakly from below, but Dakota was already dropping in, sliding down the slanted floor and into the cavern that Cavendish had accidentally uncovered. 

In the darkness Dakota fumbled for his flashlight, nearly dropping it with shaky hands. He panned the light across the floor, looking for his partner who had gone eerily quiet. The beam of light landed on a small pool of blood stopping Dakota’s heart dead in his chest.

“Cav?” Ignoring the way his voice broke, Dakota stumbled across the uneven floor toward Cavendish’s limp body.

“I was going to tell you to stay up there and go for help.” Cavendish frowned at him, blood spilling from the downward crease of his eyebrows. It was an unnerving amount of blood, but Dakota knew head wounds usually looked worse than they actually were. And then he saw Cavendish’s leg.

A thick shard of white bone popped out of Cavendish’s lower leg, tearing through his signature green pants. Blood oozed over the material, soaking his entire leg and the floor beneath him. Dakota’s stomach twisted at the sight and an overwhelming urge to throw up threatened to overcome him. Instead he took a deep, shaky breath and forced his panic back down and locked it away. Cavendish was hurt bad and panicking would only make things worse on them both.

“I’m the only help around.” He reminded the man on the floor beneath him. It would take hours for him to get back down for actual help. Then another few hours for that help to arrive and save Cavendish. That's assuming Dakota would remember the way back, which was almost impossible considering just how many paths, trees, and rocky, snowy land there was. Then add in the fact that it would be dark soon? No, he couldn’t go for help, they’d never make it back on time. “So let’s see what I can do.”

Dakota ripped off his jacket, barely feeling the chill that ran up his body and wrapped it around Cavendish’s leg. The shriek that fell from Cavendish’s lips was ear shattering and utterly heart wrenching. But Dakota bit his lip and tied the jacket harder. It may hurt Cavendish now, but that was the only way he could stop the blood. And by the looks of the puddle growing around his knees the blood flow needed to stop soon or… well he didn’t want to think about that.

Cavendish gripped Dakota’s forearm tightly through the process, most likely leaving a bruise. But, Dakota would take all the bruises in the world if it meant getting Cavendish out of this situation. Next he took a look at his head. A deep gash covered the length of his forehead, and Dakota couldn’t help but wonder just how Cavendish managed to do that. Of course it was Cavendish, so maiming himself in unimaginable ways was sort of the expectation, but even this was a little much. Sure, the entrance to the underground cavern was steep, but Dakota had made it down just fine. In fact making it down that easy was the problem; he wasn’t sure how he would make it back up, especially with Cavendish in tow. But that was a bridge he would cross when he got there. For now he still had to stabilize Cavendish.

“Man is that your brain coming out?” Dakota’s lame attempt at a bad joke fell on deaf ears. Cavendish looked so dazed and out of it that Dakota might have assumed the man was already dead if not for the light raggedy breathing coming from his body. He wasn’t sure what that meant for his lungs. Perhaps Cavendish snapped a rib or two on the way down as well. Unfortunately that would complicate things in a devastating way, but as long as he didn’t puncture a lung, Dakota could make it work. “Alright come on, Cav. Wake up. You gotta hold the light for me while I try and find a way out.”

He placed the light in Cavendish’s limp hand, feeling his heart ache as the metal clanged to the floor and rolled a few inches away. Things were bad if Cavendish couldn’t even hold something. He needed to move fast. Picking the light back up, Dakota ran toward the entrance of the cave, planning their escape. The tip of his shoe smashed into an unseen rock and Dakota went flying, sending the flashlight rolling back down toward Cavendish. Fortunately he caught himself from landing on his face. Unfortunately he caught himself with his hands shredding across the uneven ground. Fire spread across his palms and down his fingers, but Dakota refused to look. His hands would heal. For now he needed to get Cavendish out of there.

The uneven ground crumbled beneath his feet sending him sliding again. The panic he locked away threatened to burst out once more as Dakota began the impossible task of trying to climb back up the steep incline. Despite the cold he began to sweat. Raw fingers grabbed at rocks, mainly slipping but occasionally grabbing hold of something solid enough to propel himself up another few inches. The thought of how he was going to get Cavendish up and out with him weighed heavy on his mind, but Dakota pushed that down for the time being as well. He would get Cavendish out, he had to. Maybe he could find some sort of make shift rope to drag the other man out with. But first he needed to make it out of there in one piece, more or less.

Something cold and wet touched his hand making him freeze. Confused, Dakota looked up even though in the back of his mind he already knew what it was. A blizzard. Vague memories of this blizzard washed through his mind. It was bad enough to stop all pistachio deliveries, making it one of the prime contenders of their usual missions. It was also the cause of an avalanche big enough to destroy an entire village, among other things. This was such a pivotal moment of the past that Dakota couldn’t believe he had forgotten all about it. But he didn’t truly forget did he? The unease he felt earlier must have been because of this. Somewhere in the back of his mind he knew this happened today. And tomorrow. And the day after that. Dread washed over him as he realized this storm would go on for days on end and they were stuck in the middle of it. Cavendish didn’t have days. He might not even have hours.

Slowly Dakota stumbled back down the incline feeling his heart sink into his stomach. Cavendish was going to die. However unlike every other time misfortune met the man he loved, Dakota might not be able to save him. Dakota could only bring him back if he himself stayed alive through this situation, and the outcome of that didn’t look too good. He had no food, little water, and no way of escaping for the next few days to come.

“Uh, hey, Cav-” His voice broke again, though this time he played it off as a little cough. Cavendish might be too out of it to notice either way, but in case he wasn’t Dakota didn’t want to let his friend know something was wrong. “It’s getting a little snowy out there, I think we should wait it out a little. Leave once it finally stops.”

“Very well.” Cavendish’s soft voice nearly made Dakota jump out of his own skin. Clearly he wasn’t keeping his rapidly growing panic well enough in line. “My, it’s cold in here.”

Dakota knew it was true. He knew from the way his finger tips went numb. He knew from the slight blue tint appearing on Cavendish’s lips. He knew from the way their breath frosted in the air. He knew despite being too high strung to actually feel the icy cold weather on his skin.

“You got that right. Maybe we should huddle for warmth.” He said, remembering a safety class he had taken once. Skin contact was the best way to fight hypothermia… Or at least he thought it was. If not, then what was the harm anyways? Cavendish looked cold and alone, the least he could do was hold the man in a weak attempt to ease his pain. And for Dakota? Well, this was probably the only time he would ever get to be so close to Cavendish, might as well make it count. Especially since Dakota himself might not be making it out of there alive as well.

“Mm” Was Cavendish’s only reply along with a microscopic nod.

Dakota’s stomach clenched again as his feet splashed through the too large puddle of blood. Thankfully it seemed to have stopped, but there was no way Cavendish could survive with that amount of blood loss. It was only a matter of time until he died. The question was, just how long did they have?

Slowly, he lowered himself onto the ground, angling himself uncomfortably up against the wall. He wrapped one arm around Cavendish’s limp body and pulled him close. The older man cried out in pain, ripping Dakota’s heart in two, but eventually melted into his grip. Fate was a cruel mistress, because they fit together perfectly. Dakota took what little comfort he could find in the tiny amount of heat Cavendish still gave off.

“So, uh-” Dakota started, unsure of what to say. He didn’t want to just sit here in silence while Cavendish faded away, but he wasn’t sure of what to say to the other man. Cavendish had died many ways, but never this slowly, and probably not this painfully. Dakota had never really had time for a goodbye speech, and even if he had he never thought it would be his final one. But the reality of this being the end for both of them was settling in fast and Dakota tried his hardest not to freak out until after Cavendish was gone. He didn’t want the older man to see him cry.

“Dakota, I’m sorry about bringing you here today.” Cavendish told him in that same eerily quiet voice. “I thought it might be fun for the two of us to go on a little nature walk.”

“Hey don’t worry about it, man.” Dakota forced a smile to his face as if it would be enough to keep the pep in his voice. “We’ll do all the sight seeing you want when we get out of here.”

“Is that right?” Cavendish chuckled, causing him to rapid fire a few horrendous sounding coughs out of his already wheezing lungs.

“Yeah. Anywhere you wanna go. London, Paris, Sydney. The past, the future. We can go to that uppity store you’re always telling me about. You know, the one with those fancy chocolates you love.” A single tear rolled down Dakota’s cheek at the prospect of doing all of that with Cavendish. It was stuff he could only dream about doing and now he would never get the chance. They’d never get the chance to do anything ever again.

“Oh that sounds splendid.” Dakota could practically hear the smile in Cavendish’s voice even if he couldn’t see it. Despite their closeness he couldn’t see much in the dimly lit cavern, especially not when his flashlight had rolled so far away. The only thing he had now was the harsh sounds of Cavendish struggling to breath and the feel of his limp dying body in his arms. “Then I suppose we can go for a nice candle lit dinner while we’re in Paris. P-perhaps we can even go for a nice gondola ride in Italy.”

Dakota’s broken heart crumbled to pieces as more tears began falling from his eyes, blurring his vision. “I-I’d like that.”

“You know there’s so many things we never got to do. So many things that got left unsaid.” Cavendish told him, lifting a weak hand up to grab at Dakota’s. Their fingers interlocked and despite the fire of his shredded palms and the overwhelming impending doom closing in around them, it was pure bliss. He squeezed Cavendish’s hand, trying to convey his message that went so much deeper than words or actions could ever describe. He loved Cavendish with all his heart and soul, and now he would lose him. The two of them would die here in this cave, frozen together for all of time. His chest burned with a sadness he had never known. “But I think it’s time now. Future, past, none of that matters. What truly matters is the present I’ve spent with you, Vinnie.”

Dakota let out a deep sob, pulling Cavendish closer. A million emotions coursed through his veins threatening to swallow him whole. Instead he used Cavendish’s cold, rapidly softening grip on his hand as an anchor to reality. He breathed in the scent of the man, actively ignoring the metallic odor of blood mixed in with what was so distinctly Cavendish. A cold wind pricked at the hot tears streaming freely down his face.

“I love you.” Cavendish’s words struck him like a two ton brick, knocking the air from his lungs. The disparity of their situation came crashing down on Dakota and he took in a deep gulp of air trying to fill his hollow chest with something that just didn’t exist. Hope.

“I love you, too.” He said through tears. Of course he loved Cavendish. He always had. How could he not? The man was everything he could have ever dreamed of and so much more.

The hand holding his went completely limp. Dakota stiffened, straining his ears for sound. Other than the howling of the raging storm above them there was nothing. No raggedy breathing echoing through the dark cavern. “Cav?”  
Silence.

“Cav?” Dakota broke into deep sobs, clutching the taller man close. The cold body sat lifelessly in his arms, moving only when Dakota pulled it closer.

“Cavendish please!” He begged. “Don’t leave me. I’m so sorry. I love you. I love you, Cav. I’m sorry I can’t get us out of this one. I can’t save you.”

Dakota sat like that long past the point of an aching body. He was cold and stiff and utterly worn out by the time he could finally bring himself to let go. He had long since stopped crying by the time he could finally pry himself off of Cavendish’s long dead body. A deep aching hollowness engulfed him fully, threatening to pull his sanity with it. He was going to die cold and alone in a dark cave next to the corpse of the man he loved. Was it still a fate worse than death if it ultimately ended in death anyways?

The lack of feeling in his hands hardly came as a shock. He had on no outer layer, just his track suit. His jacket had gone to tourniqueting Cavendish’s leg. Even though Cavendish no longer needed it, the object was still useless to Dakota. It was soaked in blood and would probably only serve to freeze him more. With a guilty conscience and a heavy heart Dakota fumbled with frozen fingers to wrestle Cavendish’s jacket off and onto his own freezing body. The new layer helped immensely, but not nearly enough. He needed more.

The sickness rose in his stomach once more as Dakota fumbled for Cavendish’s other jacket. The thick green suit piece had always seemed like an odd choice to Dakota, but now he was grateful for it. He wrapped it around his lower half, covering his knees that could no longer bend and his toes that he was unable to wiggle.

“Thank you.” He said to the body next to him, as if it could hear. Despite feeling the overwhelming urge to, Dakota was all cried out. He had nothing left to give. What little water he had in his system was gone, replaced by a thick hollowness.

This was all his fault. If he had made them turn around at five o’clock like he wanted to this never would have happened. If he had gotten down here sooner maybe he could’ve stopped the bleeding before it was too late. If he hadn’t been so caught up in watching Cavendish’s blissful expression from a distance, the man never would have wandered out too far on his own. Any way he looked at it it was all his fault. The guilt washed over him like an angry wave of truth.

“I’m so sorry, Cav. This is all my fault.” His voice was hoarse from all the crying. Still, talking with his throat so raw felt almost therapeutic. He deserved that pain. “I could have stopped it. I could have fixed it. I always fix it. But now? Now I can’t. I’m stuck here and I let you die for good this time, Cavendish. I’m so sorry.”

The angry wind howled outside the cave. It was the only sound he could hear besides his own sniffling. Choosing to focus on that instead of Cavendish, Dakota closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Like this it was easy to pretend Cavendish was just asleep. They had wandered out too far, got caught in a small snow storm, and needed to spend the night. Cavendish was cuddled up next to him in a king size bed with thick plush blankets wrapped around the two of them. The man had been weary of sharing a bed with Dakota, though he wouldn’t say why. One thing lead to another and Dakota had confessed his undying love, leading to the most mindblowingly tender sex he’d ever had. Cavendish had fallen asleep afterwards, too worn out to stay up and cuddle. Dakota was warm and happy and ready to spend the rest of his life with the man he loved. And then an ear shattering crack had him jumping out of his grief induced daydream and whipping his head wildly around for the noise.

A tree branch stuck through the entrance of the cave like a beacon of hope. It was thin enough to leave a distinct Dakota-shaped hole for him to fit through, but sturdy enough that it should hold his weight. With that branch there Dakota could escape. It wouldn’t be easy, but even with his frozen, shredded hands he should still be able to pull himself up the branch. He’d be free, he could go back and save Cavendish. He would send the other Dakota packing and make sure both him and Cavendish were turned around by 5’oclock. No, he wanted them both at the bottom of the mountain by 5 and no later. There was no way he was even risking the chance they’d be anywhere near here when the storm started.

Except the storm had just started and would be raging on for days, if not a week. It was hard to remember something that had seemed like such trivial information at the time. Leaving now was impossible. He would either get lost or simply just freeze to death. His only option was to stay put and try and wait out the storm. But Dakota had very little water, and if he didn’t die of thirst first, he would surely starve. What little trail mix Cavendish had brought with them was long gone, scarfed down by Dakota despite it not coming anywhere close to filling him. Without food he would become weak, much too weak to pull his own weight up the branch, then walk for hours down the mountain.  
The overwhelming reality of his situation crushed the tiny spark of hope he hadn’t even realized had been starting to grow inside him. Maybe the water could last, or he could melt enough snow to drink and survive. But without food his chances at surviving long enough to go back in time and save Cavendish were slim to none. But there was nothing to eat here. Unless… No. A wave of sickness washed over him at the thought. He looked anywhere but at Cavendish’s frozen, lifeless body. He couldn’t do that. He couldn’t. It was wrong. It was disgusting. Hell, it was even criminal. He couldn’t eat Cavendish. Except that was the only way to save him.

What was more important? Preserving his sanity in the last few days of his own life? Or preserving the man he loved no matter the cost? The answer was clear even if the solution was an impossible task. Dakota had broken so many laws saving Cavendish in the past, what was one more? Still, he couldn’t bring himself to do it just yet. The hunger pangs had subsided long ago and Dakota couldn’t bring himself to actively try and eat something so undesirable if not absolutely necessary. Instead he closed his eyes once more choosing to be anywhere but there.

This time he brought Cavendish back down the mountain long before the pair could get anywhere close to the cavern. Cavendish was understandably upset, but Dakota made it up to him by ordering Chinese food and renting a movie. It would be something stupid and sappy that Cavendish weakly protested, but the man would become so invested he couldn’t pry his eyes away from it. They’d sit on the couch together and Dakota would just enjoy the closeness of the action, the warmth of Cavendish’s skin so close to his, the smooth, even breath’s. He would soak up every second of it knowing just how easily he could’ve lost the opportunity to do so.

Then they would go on a trip. Cavendish would protest that as well, claiming the need to work, but Dakota wouldn’t budge. He would bring them to Europe. France. Italy. He would map out a slow, romantic scene, and they would take their time. Sure, Cavendish might be a little unsure of Dakota’s intentions, but by the end of the night everything would be clear. Dakota would bring Cavendish out on a romantic candlelit dinner and kiss him under the stars. Everything would be perfect as soon as he got out of here. Then they could start living their lives the way they were meant to.

Dakota woke up with a splitting pain in his stomach and a stiff neck. At some point he must have fallen asleep, though he wasn’t sure when. He opened his eyes to see Cavendish’s once beautiful blue eyes staring emptily back into his. Dakota immediately pulled himself away before promptly throwing up. Bile burned his throat, coating his mouth with a rotten taste. He wiped at his lips, crying out in pain as some vomit made its way into his wounded finger tips. As much as it hurt, he knew that if he could feel his fingers then he wasn’t about to lose them. Hopefully. Despite the situation it was still reassuring. 

Next he went looking for his flashlight and backpack. Somehow or another the flashlight had turned off during the night, but thankfully the batteries still worked. Dakota flashed the light across the ground, looking for his bag. In his haste to help Cavendish he had thrown the bag down, completely disregarding it for the time being. He unzipped it, looking at the contents within. A few water bottles, a switch blade, a camera, and the empty bag of trail mix sat within. No wonder it had felt so light. Dakota would definitely be having a talk with Cavendish about his packing skills. Next time, though Dakota doubted he would ever agree to something like this again, there would be snacks, dehydrated food, more water, a blanket, fire, gloves. Cavendish never packed for an emergency because as far as he knew they never had any. Dakota knew better.

He cracked open one of the waters and took a few small sips. Ignoring the overwhelming urge to chug the rest of the bottle, Dakota twisted the cap back on and put it in the bag. Rationing his water was key. Next was food. The sick feeling threatened to overcome him once more, but Dakota pushed it down. This was for Cavendish ultimately. How Dakota felt about doing it hardly mattered. If he didn’t do it he couldn’t save Cavendish, and how could he live with himself if he made that decision? The switchblade felt odd in his grasp. For Cavendish, he reminded himself as he approached the mans lifeless body.

The most reasonable place to start was the thigh. Cavendish was a skinny little thing, there wasn’t much meat elsewhere. Plus it was far enough away from his face that it was easier for Dakota to pretend he was doing anything else rather than slicing his best friend apart for scrap meat. Dakota cut through the pants. Taking them off would have made this too real. The skin beneath was such an ugly shade of blue-gray that only furthered the illusion Dakota had built around himself. He wasn’t about to eat his best friends corpse. No, Dakota was cutting up a pig. A nice little farm animal taken too soon from this world, but that didn’t mean his meat had to go to waste. Dakota would just eat it for strength, he would need it to get back to Cavendish.

The lack of blood came as a relief. Whether it was from the cold or the amount of time the body had laid there Dakota didn’t know, nor did he care. Perhaps Cavendish just didn’t have any blood left to give. No, not Cavendish. Cutting up Cavendish would be insane, and Dakota wasn’t crazy. He was simply a man on a mission trying to get back to the one he loved.

Dakota’s red tinged hands shook uncontrollably. Vaguely he wondered why. Perhaps he was cold. But, Dakota didn’t feel cold. He didn’t feel anything but an overwhelming hunger. He had never been so hungry in his life, but that was about to change. The large chunk of flesh felt strange in his hands, almost as if it didn’t belong. But that was crazy. Since when did some chicken not belong in his hands? Dakota loved chicken. Fried, barbecued, grilled, shredded. He’d never ate it raw before, but what was the worse that could happen?

He brought the flesh to his lips, refusing to breath in. Dakota knew how much a smell could ruin a meal, and this was a meal he couldn’t afford to miss. He needed the strength to get back to Cavendish. Hesitantly he took a bite, letting his teeth sink into the chunk in his hands. The meat was tough and chewy in a way Dakota had never experienced. But then again he never had something like this before. Chicken, he reminded himself. Apparently raw chicken was chewy and tough. It was hard to swallow for many reasons, the main one being the taste. Still, Dakota ate, practically shoveling it down his throat. This was one meal he didn’t feel like savoring. The sooner it was gone the better.

When his hands were finally empty Dakota let himself cry, though he wasn’t sure why. Food had never made him cry before. Maybe it was because he missed Cavendish. Yeah, that must be it. He hadn’t seen his friend in well over a day, it must be getting to him. The tears fell freely down his face and Dakota sobbed into his bloodied hands uncontrollably. There was no one there for him to hide it from, and the crying itself felt almost therapeutic. For the second time Dakota let himself cry until he couldn’t anymore, though he could hardly remember what the first time had been about. Probably something to do with Cavendish, who he missed with every fiber of his being. If Dakota didn’t get home to the older man soon he didn’t know what he’d do.

The next time Dakota ate was much easier. He still didn’t care for the taste, but was thankful he wasn’t gagging through the entire process. He crawled for the entrance to look out as he ate. The storm still raged on outside, though thankfully with the angle of the hole and the tree covering it, very little snow actually managed to get inside. Dakota knew he lost track of time and couldn’t help but wonder how much longer the blizzard would go on for. How long had he been in this cave? How long until he could see Cavendish again? Hold him in his arms and tell him he loved him. A memory flashed through his head of the two of them huddled together on the floor of the cavern, Dakota confessing his love as Cavendish died in his arms. He laughed and shook his head. A memory? More like a bad dream. This whole situation was a nightmare, but that would have been unbearable.

Sleeping didn’t come easy, but Dakota knew he had to do it. The ground was cold and hard beneath him. It made him yearn for the future where he and Cavendish would cuddle in the worlds most comfortable bed, surrounded by mounds of blankets and pillows. Maybe they’d get a cat who would insist on sleeping between them. Sure, it meant they couldn’t cuddle, but Cavendish would wrap his long gangly frame around the tiny creature and smile with such content that Dakota wouldn’t be angry. He would just reach out and cling to whatever body part was closest. An arm, a leg, it didn’t really matter. Dakota just wanted to feel Cavendish’s skin against his own.

The days passed, or at least Dakota thought they did. With the storm outside it was almost impossible to tell. It was cold and dark all the time. The only thing he had to pass the time was daydreaming of Cavendish. Eventually he had everything all planed out, up to and including the way he would ask Cavendish to be his boyfriend. It would definitely happen over dinner, which was all he could think about. Because truth be told the food there sucked and did little to fill him. Dakota was in a state of constant hunger despite eating practically nonstop. He ate and ate and ate, but it was never enough. If the storm didn’t stop soon he would be out of food and everything he had done to survive would have been a waste. The thought made him feel hollow in a way he hadn’t in days.

The next time he woke up Dakota saw sun. Genuine sunshine flooded down the hole, bathing a few inches of cavern in glorious yellow light. He ran to the entrance, faster than he had moved in a long time. The storm had stopped, Dakota was free. He was free. Tears prickled his eyes at the realization he was going to make it back to Cavendish. His stomach growled, snapping him back to reality. One quick meal before he left. He’d need it. Dakota was going to have to navigate his way back down a mountain, doing so on an empty stomach would be foolish. He would give into the hunger one last time.

He went back to the carcass in the corner, looking over it in an attempt to find something edible. It had been practically picked clean and Dakota had to get more and more creative in feeding himself. There was a surprising amount of meat in a foot, organs were easier to get down than flesh, and no matter how hungry he got Dakota just couldn’t bring himself to eat an eyeball. Memories of fish head soup floated through his mind every time he tried and it was an image he just couldn’t overcome.

After Dakota ate he began the impossible task of escaping. His hands had long since scabbed over, though they still cracked open and bled as he grabbed a hold of the branch. He propped a foot on the wall, angling his body in a way he thought would be easiest and pulled. Thankfully the branch didn’t break immediately. Slowly but surely Dakota used the limb to drag himself up and out. Splinters dug at his already raw hands, lodging themselves deep inside him. The pain hardly mattered. All that mattered was getting out. His arms burned with strain, but he was making progress. Eventually Dakota made it to the top, barely managing to fit through the tiny opening between the tree and the ground.

Busting his way to freedom Dakota landed face first in a pile of thick snow. He fumbled with the soft mushy ground to righten himself. Maybe he should have waited for the ground to harden. Or would that have made things more difficult? Either way it was too late to turn back now. With unsteady feet Dakota whirled around looking for the path that lead back down the mountain. From this position it was hard to tell, especially with the newly fallen snow, but eventually he was able to make out a familiar rock/tree combination. Slowly he stumbled through the snow toward it. Even his fastest pace wasn’t fast enough. There was just so much snow it was nearly impossible to navigate through. With little regards of wearing himself out before he could make it to the bottom Dakota was moving as fast as he could to get out of there. The only thing on his mind was reuniting with Cavendish.

An eternity later he was at the base of the mountain hurdling toward their car. His entire body ached. He was sore, tired, thirsty, and so very very hungry. But all that could wait. He needed to see Cavendish. A sudden wave of unease washed over him as he unburied the time machine from a mound of fresh snow. In order to see Cavendish he would need to go back in time. Because Cavendish was dead. A wall slammed shut in his mind, blocking the thought. Yes, Cavendish was dead. He died all the time, this was nothing new. Dakota was simply going back to trade places and make sure they got off the mountain with plenty of time to spare.

He shoved the key in the ignition and kicked it into overdrive. Dakota landed a few feet away, not even trying to hide from his past self and Cavendish. Thankfully Cavendish was in the poor excuse of a public restroom leaving only the two versions of Dakota to stare each other down.

“Oh, man. Again?” The other Dakota sighed, looking at him. He did a double take at Dakota’s state which had the man wondering just how bad he looked. He knew he was a little worse for wear, but did it really warrant the unsightly fear in his doppelgangers eyes? “Hey, what happened to you?”

Dakota took one step forward, ready to send his past self packing when he heard a noise. The light sound of Cavendish’s voice traveled through the air causing Dakota’s heart to break once more. Just like that the wall he had put up in his mind came crashing down with a bang. Every emotion he had locked away came flooding to the surface and he found himself clinging to the other Dakota for support.

“Are you ok?” His other self asked, looking even more confused and afraid.

“Have him down here by 5 o’clock.” Dakota whispered, fighting back the urge to vomit.

“What? Me? Aren’t we supposed to like, switch places? You have him back by five!” The other Dakota said, trying to take a step back only to be held in place by bloody fingers.  
“5 o’clock. Do you understand?” His voice cracked as the overload of emotions threatened to swallow him whole.

“Yes! I get it. Five. We’ll be back down here with bells on, geez.”

Dakota sent his past self one last glance before he ran back into his car, slamming the door shut as he began to cry. Taking one final look at Cavendish, who thankfully didn’t notice him at all upon exiting the restroom, Dakota threw up across the steering wheel, half chewed chunks of flesh coating everything in sight. The sight of the man he loved looking so vibrant and alive paired with the memory of the carved up carcass he left alone in that cave.

Dakota had only sent the vehicle several miles away, close enough to the nearest boat yard in the area. Eventually he would have to send himself to the Island, but for now Dakota sat there sobbing, covered in vomit.

The rotten smell was enough to make him throw up again, and thankfully this time Dakota managed to make it out of the car and into the snow before he was emptying his stomach, staining the snowy white an odd mixture of a pinkish orange. Dakota heaved until nothing more would come out. Every second of his time in the cavern came flashing back, overwhelming him completely. All he could do was lay there and cry. So that’s what he did. Eventually he would have to get up, pull himself together, and head to the only place where he had infinite versions of himself to keep him under control. To keep him from hurting anyone else. But for now Dakota sobbed into the thick green jacket he hadn’t even realized he brought with him as his stomach growled uncontrollably. He was so very, very hungry.


End file.
